Katharine Ashe - A Ladys Wish

Dearest Readers,

In my Rogues of the Sea trilogy, three swashbuckling lords of Regency England and their adventuresome ladies dare everything for perfect love. The trilogy begins with Swept Away By a Kiss (nominated for RT Book Reviews Best First Historical Romance) and continues with Captured By a Rogue Lord and In the Arms of a Marquis , each a sizzling stand-alone romance.

I am thrilled now to offer you a taste of the series as an exclusive e-novella, A Ladys Wish , the love story of dashing war hero Captain Nikolas Acton of the Royal Navy and the girl he spent one glorious day with and could never forget. I hope you enjoy Nik and Patricias scandalously passionate reunion, including cameo appearances of the heroes of my trilogy.

Happy romance and adventure!

Warmest wishes,

Katharine

KATHARINE ASHE

A Ladys Wish

Contents

T wo gentlemen stood upon the busy Portsmouth dock, the chill gray of February hanging over tall masts, broad decks and draft-drawn carts porting cargo to and fro. Pulled by a squat tug, a ship with furled sails moved slowly into berth along the quay, an elegant beauty, long as she was lovely, and powerful with fifty-six gunwales and a brace of iron pivots atop.

A war hero, you say? The younger gentleman, the Marquess of Dore, dark of hair and eye, with bronzed skin and a quiet air, studied the vessel.

They say, the Viscount of Ashford drawled, a hint of the Continent in his tone and garments. The latter were as costly as his friends yet with the faintest suggestion of the dandy about them. His hair, short beneath a silk hat, glistened gold even in the gloom.

Does he deserve the praise?

He does indeed. Lord Ashford glanced at the marquesss sober visage. He is a good man. I believe he will accept our offer.

No wealth to amuse him? No title to bind him?

Comfortable wealth won upon the sea against Boney. Youngest son of a minor squire. Rather, too much time on his hands now that the war has ended. The viscounts amber gaze shifted to the officer at the vessels helm, the man they had come to see. Too much time in which to remember, and not enough activity to distract from those remembrances.

The marquess nodded, wise already despite his youth. And if he accepts?

I will send him after Redstone, of course.

Lord Dore turned his head and assessed the viscount carefully. Slowly a crease appeared in his cheek.

I daresay, the viscount murmured.

You will hire him to follow Redstone, but at a discreet distance, I trust?

Naturally. Dont wish to send the fellow to his death, after all.

The slight grin faded from Lord Dores mouth and his black eyes remained watchful. Redstone will not be swayed to our cause. He is another sort of man altogether.

I am not so certain of that. The viscount lifted a brow. He steals from the rich to give to the poor, Ben.

You may have played at being a pirate, Steven. But Redstone actually is one. He has killed more men than you and I have combined.

The viscounts eyes turned again to the man-of-war now slipping gracefully into her berth, the red, white and blue banner of empire snapping proudly atop the mizzenmast.

And yet, he said quietly, I will wager my fortune that our brave naval captain here has outstripped you, me, and Redstone together in that particular category. Desire for acknowledgment can lead a man to extraordinary lengths.

Ah. The marquess scanned the deck for its captain. Though not yet above thirty, their quarry carried himself with authority, confidence in the set of his shoulders and the cast of his jaw. When will you meet with him?

No time like the present. The viscount tapped his silver-tipped walking stick upon the planking in affected impatience. But they had waited four months already since the treaty that ended the war with France sent this sailor home to England after eight years upon the seathis man they hoped to make an ally before he lost himself to the inevitable pleasures of society he had once left behind in favor of the theater of war.

Their work was noble, though unpopular. Yet here was a man who might be convinced to labor for them.

Upon deck the master of the 1500-ton warship called out orders to his men, his uniform of crisp blue and white favoring his broad frame.

Welcome home, proud son of Britain, the viscount murmured. Welcome home, Nikolas Acton.

A true hero! The matron fluttered her lacy kerchief beneath Niks nose. Or perhaps beneath her own. It was a very large nose, like the nose of her daughter beside her. My darling Tansy and I read of your commendation in the paper, Captain Acton, the mouth hidden beneath the cliff of the nose gushed. I said to her, my dear Tansy, if a true hero is to attend the ball tonight, and such a handsome one, we must make his acquaintance if we should be so fortunate. And now we are so fortunate!

It is my honor, maam. Nik bowed and turned his attention upon the ladys daughter. The girl had a sweet smile and bright eyes. Appreciation for the nose could be learned.

But apparently the persistent sense within him that something was missing in the lady in all ladies could not be unlearned. Despite his efforts. For nearly a decade it had been the same. From smiling misses to stunning widows, he found himself searching for something he recognized. Something he had lost.

Oh, no, Captain. It is our honor entirely! The matron nudged her dear darling Tansy forward.

Nikolas set a gentle look upon the girl. Would you care to dance, Miss Chapel?

She nodded. They danced and he studied her smile. Chandeliers sparkled, violins trilled, flutes piped, guests laughed over glittering champagne, and his partner was a perfectly amiable young lady. His mother and sisters would be in alt. Home barely a month, and already he was seeking a wife.

A wife, his mother had urged, will help you establish yourself in society, as though Nik wished for none other than that.

A wife, his sisters had giggled, will spend all that gold you won at war, as though otherwise he might spend it all on carriages and cards.

A wife, his father and elder brothers had glowered, will finally thrash the fool boy out of you, as though eight years at war had not already seen to that.

A wife, Nik hoped, would force him to cease searching for that which he had not found in nine years.

Captain Acton, you are staring at my mouth.

Not staring, precisely, merely lingering there in distraction.

I beg your pardon. I am charmed. You have a lovely smile. A sweet, natural smile, in truth. But not the same. Never the same. He had only ever found remnants. The curve of a lower lip upon one lady. The glimmer of laughter in the eyes of another. The tilt of chin affected by a third. Hair, eyes, hands, shoulders, even the fabric of her gown. Everywhere he went, in every woman he encountered he saw memories of the girl he had known for a day, and lost just as swiftly.

Oh. Miss Chapel dimpled. I imagined a crumb stuck to my chin.

Nikolas chuckled then lowered his brow. Absolutely not, madam. You appear pristine.

Tiresomely so, she sighed, although my mother would scream to hear me say it. But that spark lurking in your green eyes suggests you would rather that I appear other than I do.

Never. And may I say, your blue eyes are quite as fine as your smile. But not cornflower blue.

La, Captain. You will put me to the blush, she said disingenuously, but her dimples deepened, lessening the effect of the nose between them. I am a painter, you see. I notice such things.

Aha. Such things as?

The color of a persons eyes and the expression within them.